


Always Welcome

by Catchclaw



Series: Mental Mimosa [171]
Category: Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic, Everybody Trying to Figure Things Out, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-16
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-08-03 00:53:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16316015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catchclaw/pseuds/Catchclaw
Summary: Venom's a cuddly bastard. But hey, so is Eddie.





	Always Welcome

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: One character is a cuddle therapist. Prompt from this [generator](http://bleep0bleep.tumblr.com/promptsnsfw).

What surprises Eddie about Venom (thing 1 of 974 and counting) is how cuddly the bastard is.

At night, late, when even the streets are asleep, Eddie will push off the couch with a groan and throw himself at his unmade bed, the rumpled twist of the sheets. He’ll fall asleep on his back and wake up an hour later on his side with Venom curled over his shoulders, a slick, warm embrace that pools down his spine and curves in again at his hips. Inside his head, it’s the same: a settled weight tucked against the storm of his thoughts.

 **Back to sleep** , Venom will hum, a tendril nuzzling Eddie’s ear. **Not time for being awake yet**.

And Eddie will sigh and dig into the pillow and slide right back into dreams.

Sometimes, though, he has nightmares, bad bad dreams of the rip-roaring variety--death and blood and helplessness, loneliness, god, the awful certain sense of being alone--and he’ll tear himself out of sleep and sit up with a long, hollow gasp and it’ll take him a moment to remember that he’s awake now, that he’s in his own bed. That he isn’t alone.

 **Eddie**. A deep, anxious purr. **Eddie?**

_Alright I’m alright it was just a bad dream, just a bad--_

And Venom will slide up his back, spread a handful of tentacles across his ribs and around and pull him close, squeeze, bite gently at the base of his neck. He’ll stretch a hundred fingers through the flickering shadows in Eddie’s mind and tug at them, tear, until fear fades into watercolors, dreams that give way like balsa and run.

**Shhhh. It’s all right now.**

Eddie will lean into him, shivering with sweat, and let Venom carry their weight.

_Sorry._

**Why?** A sweep of tongue at his ear. **You did nothing bad**. **Your mind playing tricks, is all**. **Come, lie down again. There.**

He’ll smooth his palm over the tentacle braced around his waist and press a little, a lot, until his hand sinks in and his fingers are sliding through black.

 _S’better. Thanks, buddy_.

Sometimes, then, there’ll be something that feels like a kiss, a wave of affection that peaks in another long hug. **Welcome, Eddie. Always welcome.**  

 *********  

In the morning, when the TV’s on and he’s burning up the keyboard and Venom’s on his third bag of Pizza Rolls, he feels a little weird about it, what happens between them at night. He looks forward to it now, is the thing, and there’s no question that he’s sleeping better, nightmares aside, than he has in fucking ages—since he lived with Anne. Which is not a parallel he’s anxious to make.

There’s no question that Venom’s doing his best, as always, in his weird off-kilter way, to make Eddie happy, to make sure that his host is copacetic, yeah, but cuddling--because ok, Eddie, he tells himself, that’s exactly what it is--is not part of the symbiote job description, he’s pretty damn sure.

They’re halfway through an ancient _Melrose Place_ rerun before he gets up the stones to say:

“V, can I, uh--can we talk about something?”

Venom stirs, a little irritated; he’s as fascinated by the commercials as he is by Heather Locklear. **What?**

 _You know you’re not my babysitter, right? You don’t have to, ah--it’s not your responsibility to, you know, comfort me or whatever_.

 **You are dancing around something**. There’s a sharp prod, a poke. **If you can’t say it, then show me your thought.**

He bats away the mental tongue depressor. _Hey, asshole. Nuh uh--we’ve talked about this. No mind reading Jedi stuff, ok?_

Venom huffs. **Fine. Then tell it to me before the show comes back.**

Eddie takes a deep breath, which is stupid because they’re freaking talking inside of his head. _You don’t have to, ah, cuddle with me when I’m sleeping. That’s what I’m trying to say_.

**Oh. Don’t have to?**

_No. Not at all._

**But I like it**. A stroke at the base of his spine. **And so do you. It makes you feel good.**

Why the fuck that makes Eddie blush, he has no goddamn idea. “That’s not your job, though, to make me feel good.”

 **When you feel good, I do, too** , Venom says, like he’s a total moron. **This isn’t complicated, Eddie.**

“I know, I know it’s not, but what I’m saying is--”

 **Irrelevant.** He can feel the thing shift, feel its attention peel back from him and reach eagerly for the TV. **Amanda is on. So shut up.**

*********

That night, though, Venom’s hesitant, rippling down Eddie’s arms as he settles in, turning in uncertain circles around Eddie’s wrists.

“What?” Eddie says, slurred, one scotch too many. “What’s wrong, V?”

 **Do you want** \--a whisper over his chest, a soft wave over his back-- **should I hold you?**

Eddie laughs, a hiccup-y one he can’t quite muffle in the pillow. _If you’re ok with it, then I am. Your choice._

Venom goes still. Shit. Venom is _never_ still; some part of him is always in motion, a perpetual Rube Goldberg machine, and for a moment, a long one, Eddie’s afraid he’s fucked up.

 **I want to** , Venom says at last, quiet in the corner of Eddie’s mind. **Can I?**

He laughs again; this time, it feels like relief. _Hell yes._

There’s a rush of black from his body, a sudden flurry of wide arms and heat and of weight, and Venom is surrounding him, stretched from the top of Eddie’s head to the balls of his feet and there are tendrils everywhere, thick and thin, each curled around his flesh, firm.

 **Mmmm**. A sound Eddie’s never heard before, low and almost content. **Come here.**

Eddie relaxes, feels his body ease into the sheets, into the soft suck of Venom’s embrace. _Trust me, I’m not going anywhere, man_.

A fierce shot of pride, a hot lick against the turn of his neck. **Good**.


End file.
